


To Take a Stand

by Starrie_Wolf



Series: Fic Exchanges [Starrie Wolf] [7]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Beginning of the Death of Tomorrow, Established Relationship, Gen, How Ukitake got his hands on an object as sacred as the Shihouin Shield, M/M, Missing Scene, Soul Society invasion arc, Yuushirou is a conniving cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 03:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4549188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starrie_Wolf/pseuds/Starrie_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To go against Central 46’s edict was to commit treason of the highest order, subject to execution. And yet -</p><p>“Where is our <i>truth</i>, Shunsui? Have we become so complacent that we would turn a blind eye to blatant injustice? Mere <i>infants</i> dare to tread where we do not!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Take a Stand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ravens_rising](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravens_rising/gifts).



> I hope you like this; you didn't specify any details whatsoever so I went with something I've wanted to explore for a while regarding these two captains.

He felt Shunsui’s reiatsu brushing up against his, a curl of shadows like the broad stroke of a calligraphy brush, long before the perfunctory knock came at the door to his office. Jūshirō brought his teacup to his lips, taking a serene sip. Without waiting for his acknowledgement – Shunsui would insist it was because he’d already announced his presence, after all – the shōji door slammed open with a force so great the paper would have torn if it hadn’t been reinforced with seals. Shunsui flounced into his office in a hurricane of garish pink, flopping into an untidy sprawl across the low table.

Kiyone and Sentarō appeared in the doorway, bowing sheepishly. “Sorry Sir, we tried to get him to wait –”

Delicately, Jūshirō set his teacup down and waved them off with a gentle smile. “It’s all right.” Kyōraku Shunsui, when roused, was a force of nature he wouldn’t expect his Third Seats to temper. Despite what Division gossip would have Seireitei believe, Shunsui didn’t actually spend all his time over at the Thirteenth, preferring the sprawling gardens in the Eighth instead.

That, and because he was usually too lazy to make the trip over to the Thirteenth.

With one last relieved bow, the shōji door slid shut again. Behind the paper screen, he could hear the first sounds of a scuffle breaking out, each of his Third Seats insisted that _they_ were the first one to close the door.

“Did you hear, they moved little Rukia-chan’s execution date forwards again?”

The teacup clattered against the saucer – an unforgiveable faux pas, but Jūshirō rather thought Shunsui would forgive him for that. “Thank you for informing me.” His mouth was working on sheer muscle memory alone, a thousand years of courtly manners overriding the kernel of blind panic that had burst open inside him at the unwelcome news. “I wasn’t aware you were so invested in her. A bit young for your tastes, isn’t she?”

The commotion abruptly ended, throwing the room into silence. No doubt Kiyone and Sentarō had their ears pressed to the door and were hanging onto their every word.

To any outsider, Shunsui might seem relaxed, long limbs carelessly draped over the tatami mats, but Jūshirō knew better. The eyes, half-hidden under long brown curls, were sombre as they flickered in his direction. “She’s a pretty girl,” he remarked candidly, playing along with the old joke no doubt for the sake of the eavesdropping Third Seats outside.

“Don’t let Byakuya-kun hear you say that.”

“His sister’s a dead woman and he hasn’t so much as tried to appeal,” Shunsui scoffed bluntly. “Funny, after the fuss he raised about Hisana.” Jūshirō’s eyes narrowed. Shunsui wasn’t usually this vicious in public, not unless he was riled up about something.

He dredged up a wry smile. “There’s nothing I can do.”

~*~*~*~*~

“Where did you go this afternoon?”

Jūshirō rolled over on the futon to face Shunsui, the bubbles of alarm in his reiatsu smoothing out before it could betray him. “Nowhere in particular, why?”

“I stopped by the Thirteenth, but your Third Seats said you were resting. The funny thing is, I couldn’t sense your reiatsu in the office at all. Odd, isn’t it?”

He hesitated, caught between lying and coming clean, knowing that the slight pause was already damning enough on its own. Shunsui’s eyes glittered in the soft moonlight coming through the open window, and though the other captain didn’t say anything he could feel the weight of the accusation lying between them, thick and cloying.

Jūshirō sighed. There was no point in hiding it from his own lover, who wouldn’t hold it against him. “I went to Central 46 to request a hearing.”

“And what did they say?” Shunsui’s voice was level, as though his lover had considered that possibility already and was waiting Jūshirō to confirm it. It had been _Shunsui_ who’d brought up the idea of an appeal first, after all.

“Nothing,” Jūshirō couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. There was no one else around but them, after all. “They didn’t even respond to my request.”

Shunsui’s reiatsu frosted over, his surprise cutting into Jūshirō like shards of glass for a brief moment before he got himself under control. He didn’t ask if Jūshirō was _sure_ , if he’d used all the proper channels – of course he’d tried all of those things, and even a few less proper channels to cover all his bases.

Nothing. It was as though he’d been completely brushed aside.

“Surely you agree that the punishment is far too harsh for the crime? Execution, on the Sōkyoku Hill no less? Even for the heiress apparent of one of the Four Great Noble Clans, this is far too much –”

Belatedly, he realised that his voice had risen to an uncharacteristic volume, and Shunsui was eyeing him warily as though expecting him to erupt into a seizure at any moment. “Jū-chan,” he began cautiously, “you can’t let your regret over Kaien cloud your actions –”

“It’s not like that!” he interrupted hotly.

To his credit, Shunsui didn’t speak again, letting Jūshirō gather his thoughts.

“Where is our _truth_ , Shunsui? Have we become so complacent that we would turn a blind eye to blatant injustice?” Because he could remember a time when he could have greeted the entire Central 46 by name, could have sworn on his zanpakutō that they had only Seireitei’s best interests at heart. Now – now he could walk past one of them on the streets and not realise who they were.

“Central 46’s word is law,” pointed out his lover gently, not refuting nor conceding his point – which was a concession on its own. “You need to think of your Division.”

And to go against Central 46’s edict was to commit treason of the highest order, subject to execution. Jūshirō breathed in, and then out. “Mere _infants_ dare to tread where we do not. I would be ashamed to call myself a captain if I did not at least try.”

Shunsui closed his eyes, but Jūshirō didn’t need to see the emotions reflected on his face when they were written plainly in his reiatsu, threads of disbelief and resignation winding through each other in a complicated tangle.

Then the eyes opened again. “What did you have in mind?”

~*~*~*~*~

All things considered, even Jūshirō hadn’t expected the current head to the Shihōin Clan to respond so quickly. Scarcely had two hours passed when a Hell Butterfly came fluttering through the window, even though it was far past midnight, carrying an invitation to tea that very afternoon.

Jūshirō looked up from where he had been contemplating the perfectly maintained lawn. “You don’t have to come with me.”

Walking beside him, Shunsui snorted. “Have you forgotten our oaths to each other already? I swore to be by your side, through whatever that may follow.”

“I would release you from your oath, if you so desire.”

Shunsui’s reiatsu flickered in agitation, but he didn’t respond verbally.

Jūshirō stopped walking, and waited until his partner turned to face him. “I was serious.”

Shunsui shook his head, and shot him a meaningful look that worked better than any verbal rebuke would have. “Come, let us not keep the Shihōin Head waiting any longer.”

 _Who knew how many of his guards were hiding in the bushes_ , was unsaid, but the message was received loud and clear.

Shihōin Yūshirō was a small slip of a boy, looking barely out of childhood himself, and not even a shinigami. Jūshirō knew better than to underestimate him based on appearance alone. This was the man who had single-handedly wrangled the entire Shihōin Clan together in the wake of his older sister’s desertion, who had kept one of the biggest clans around from falling into chaos, and maintained his leadership for the last hundred years.

He was also the most likely to be sympathetic to their cause.

“Greetings, honoured captains,” Yūshirō began, smiling demurely. “How may this one help such esteemed individuals today?” His entire demeanour screamed _harmless civilian_ , and even though Jūshirō knew very well it was just an act he felt himself begin to involuntarily relax.

He took a sip of the tea instead, letting its calming aroma fortify him. “There is an object within the Shihōin Treasury, a gift from the Soul King himself, which is said to be able to block all in its path.” Jūshirō had been present the one and only time in living memory the Shihōin Shield was brought out of storage, to quell the start of what could have been a civil war, and the sight was stuck in his mind even a thousand years later. It was no mere boast. “Given the recent incursion into Seireitei, and the fact that none of the intruders have been successfully apprehended, we simply wish to raise our concerns regarding the security of this object.”

Long lashes fluttered briefly against Yūshirō’s cheeks, and even Jūshirō couldn’t tell if it was a hint of well-hidden surprise or just a regular blink. “Captains, you are most thoughtful. I must show you the object you speak of at once, so that you can rest easy, knowing that it is in good hands.”

“We cannot possibly offer such an insult –” began Jūshirō, only to be overridden.

“Oh, no,” Yūshirō said, and he was smiling lightly, rising to his feet with feline grace. Automatically, Jūshirō and Shunsui rose with their host, and they had no choice but to follow as the Clan Head strode out of the room. “I must insist.”

They barely managed to spare each other a bemused glance before they were led down a dizzying series of paths no doubt designed to bamboozle even the most tenacious of thieves. Indeed, if it wasn’t for Shunsui’s reiatsu seeping casually into the shadows, marking their way, Jūshirō would doubt even _their_ ability to find their way out.

A Hell Butterfly landed delicately on the tip of Yūshirō’s finger, and their host paused suddenly, tilting his head towards a voice only he could hear.

“My deepest apologies,” Yūshirō said suddenly, letting the butterfly go. “There is an urgent matter that I must attend to at once. The shield is stored within the building at the end of this path; please, do not tarry on my account. The safety of the object is paramount.” Thus said, he beat a hasty retreat back the way they had come, and had vanished from sight within a few seconds.

Shunpo, at that speed? He knew of lieutenants who were slower than that. If Shihōin Yūshirō was an actual civilian Jūshirō would _eat_ his zanpakutō.

“Did he just –” Shunsui said slowly, staring from where Yūshirō had disappeared to the small wooden hut in the distance, and back again.

“Why, yes, I do believe he just did.” Jūshirō shook his head as Shunsui began to laugh. “Quick, let’s grab that shield and get out of here before he comes back.”

~*~*~*~*~

Even though he’d known intellectually that this day would come, Jūshirō was still unprepared for the reality of facing the man he viewed as a father across the battlefield.

“Is this what Soul Society must come down to? Where a parent must raise his hand against his own children?” Genryūsai-sensei shook his head, searing disappointment etched in every line of his face. “Will you not make him reconsider, Shunsui?” Because of course Genryūsai-sensei would know that it was all Jūshirō’s idea, that Shunsui was with him out of loyalty and – dare he say it, even in the safety of his own mind – _love_.

Standing beside him, Shunsui’s reiatsu wound soothingly around his, quelling his flashfire of doubt. _We seek not to be born on the selfsame day, but merely hope to die on the selfsame day._ Jūshirō could hear their oath in his mind, renewed every year on their anniversary like clockwork, as clearly as if Shunsui had spoken aloud.

_Do not falter. This is the right thing to do._

Genryūsai-sensei sighed, an audible wheeze that made him look every inch his three millennia for a moment. Then he banged his walking stick on the ground, the cloak of command wrapping back around him as though it had never left, and he was once again the Captain-Commander instead of the man who had raised them from boyhood. “So be it.”

And then the world was awash in a firestorm.

~*~*~*~*~

This time, Yūshirō greeted them at the entrance to the Shihōin Estate. “Ah!” he exclaimed, darting forwards, and before Jūshirō quite realised it he had already been relieved of the shield in his hands. “You have retrieved the stolen Sacred Armament! Honoured captains, you have our eternal gratitude!” He dipped into a formal bow, sheepishness radiating from every line of his body.

Jūshirō didn’t need to glance at Shunsui to know that his partner wanted to laugh in sheer incredulity again, but they had a charade to maintain. “Please,” he said smoothly, returning the bow, Shunsui mimicking his actions, “it was our utmost pleasure to be able to aid in the recovery of such a prestigious object.”

Yūshirō straightened, not a single slight sparkle in his brown eyes despite the momentous part he’d played in saving an innocent person from condemnation, not a single visible indication that he was in on the same joke as they were.

He would have to speak to Kurosaki Ichigo, Jūshirō decided. Any student of both Urahara Kisuke _and_ Shihōin Yoruichi, no matter his apparent youth or relative inexperience, was clearly someone not to be underestimated.

Good thing he still had that spare Substitute Shinigami badge lying around…

**Author's Note:**

> "We seek not to be born on the selfsame day, but merely hope to die on the selfsame day." Quote adapted from the Oath of Peach Garden.
> 
> [Here's a really amazing piece of Kyouraku/Ukitake art for your enjoyment.](http://starriewolf.tumblr.com/post/115760335481)


End file.
